


I Have Loved You

by ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong (Sagnessagiel)



Series: Worth the Wait [3]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Angst, Breakup, M/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 01:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagnessagiel/pseuds/ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong
Summary: After a thousand years, Sorey wakes up.





	I Have Loved You

It is dark outside. The early morning hours are always long. The nights when he stays up, Tim enjoys spending them on the balcony of their house, outside in the quiet night. 

He drinks a cup of tea and watches the stars. Mikleo is sleeping inside, exhausted from a long trip with the university's archaeological department. He returned a few hours ago and fell into bed. Tim does not yet feel like joining him. 

Their house is a large solitary structure set low in a cliff range at the edge of Zaphgott Moor. It is an open thing with windows as high as the walls and a large balcony that allows for a lot of freedom. He overlooks the ocean and the majestic bridge to Rolance, the moon high overhead and the thin stream of light in the distance. It accompanies the moon like a sword to a shield. Both are ever watching, ever guiding, ever vigilant. 

Not for the first time, Tim's thoughts drift to the legendary Shepherd of Chaos. The man mentioned at some point or other in all of Mikleo's books. His significance is legend and myth, his power unreal in retelling. Tim often wonders in what ways he himself could compare to such a man. 

Sorey. That was his name. Tim has barely heard Mikleo say it out loud in all of their relationship, but he has heard it from basically everyone else he knows. No one grows up in Glenwood without hearing of the Shepherd of Chaos. Tim took a course on the happenings of the Age of Chaos when he was only a few decades old. That was some time ago. 

But the way Mikleo says it is different from everyone else. Tim has heard it said said with reverence, with disinterest, in factual tones, and in ridicule. It is a name of a phenomenon more than a man, but when Mikleo says it, there is no part of the phenomenon in it. Mikleo remembers the man, and truth be told, Tim fears comparing to the man more than the legend. 

He shakes his head. He should not be thinking like this. He knows what they were. The Shepherd of Chaos and his seraphim, and Grand Seraph Mikleo. That story is more famous than the shepherd is on his own. Tim has rarely ever asked Mikleo about it, and sometimes he suspects that is part of the reason Mikleo is with him. But besides that, Mikleo loves him. He knows that much. No matter who there was or who there will be, Mikleo loves him now. 

He sighs. The tea in his hands is cooling, so he takes a long sip. He should have brought a book with him if he was going to sit and think like this all night. Technically he could still go get one. 

There is no real point to spending the night like this. Tim stands up and heads for the door inside, either to get a book or to go join Mikleo in their bed. He will decide when he gets there. 

A few steps from the door, his hand reaching out towards the handle, he sees something in the reflection in the glass. A flicker of sorts. Something that should not be there. 

Tim freezes. The light in the glass remains steady. Until it doesn't. It flickers again. 

He turns around just in time to see the pillar in the distance - the permanent fixture and monument to his insecurities - waver like a candle in a breeze. 

His breath leaves him. He cannot take his eyes off it. It feels as though his body has turned to stone. 

As he watches, the light flickers again, once, twice, and then erupts in a bright flash like the light of an explosion. It shrinks to a hair's breadth and then expands until it breaks apart, snuffing itself out and sending a pulse of power flying out into the world. It bursts out like a ripple in water, thinning as it spreads and hurtles towards him with a force he cannot comprehend. It draws the water with it in a great, silent wave, and then fizzles out far too quickly to draw it all the way to the face of the cliffs.

By the time the ripple reaches him, it is no more than a light breeze. It ruffles his hair and robes and stirs his mind into action. 

The light is out. 

At first Tim wants nothing more than to see it come back into existence. He wants this to be a bad dream. He has never seen the sky without that light in it. It looks empty without it. 

Then it dawns on him what this means. His eyes drift from the lone moon, down from the sky, to the cup of tea he abandoned on the table. The chair he left pulled out for when he would return. Mechanically and with much effort, he approaches it.

He pushes the chair in, but he cannot take the tea. After ten seconds of trying to will himself to put it away, he leaves it there. He walks inside. 

With each step through the living room, his conviction grows. He scales the stairs two steps at a time and breathes deep as he regains himself. The door to their bedroom is closed. Tim stops just outside and for a moment just listens to his own breathing. 

He opens it slowly, narrowly avoiding its creak. Inside is a dark room washed in moonlight. It looks darker than when he left it after Mikleo fell asleep. 

Faced with Mikleo, asleep on the bed, Tim can only stare. Mikleo has always looked beautiful, but in a blue washed room with gracefully ruffled sheets around him, his loose hair spread over the pillows, he looks ethereal. Unreal. It takes the hard earned breath out of Tim, and his will wavers like the dying light. 

Tim clenches his fist. His strength will not waver. He knew this would happen. The floor creaks lightly at his approach. 

He sits down on the bed and takes a long look at Mikleo's face. He commits it to memory with a will unparalleled, and then takes hold of Mikleo's shoulder. 

"Babe?" He shakes gently. Mikleo was never difficult to wake up. True to form, he groans lightly at the second shake. 

"Baby, wake up," Tim urges gently. His voice is steady. "Babe, the light."

Mikleo blinks his eyes open. "What?"

"The light is out," Tim says. "He's waking up."

Mikleo stares, uncomprehending, until his sleep-addled mind catches up. He sits up like a shot and turns around to look out the window. 

Tim will never forget the moment in which Mikleo realises what is happening. It feels as though it goes on forever, until Mikleo's head turns and his now clear eyes are on Tim. 

"I have to go," Mikleo says. 

Tim stands up and heads for the door. "Get dressed. I'll pack for you. Grab some clothes when you go downstairs."

It is a testament to Mikleo's singular purpose that he does not even answer. Tim just hears the sound of him rising and striding over to their closet with a determination he has never before seen Mikleo display. Tim leaves and heads downstairs, desperately searching his mind for distractions. 

He gets one of their suitcases and packs it with Mikleo's things. He takes only the essentials and leaves the currently active research. They can sort out the details later when it comes to the house. Mikleo needs no food, and there is no time for frivolities, so he leaves that alone entirely. 

Just as he is rummaging through a drawer for Mikleo's ID, Mikleo comes bounding down the stairs with an armful of clothing. 

"I have a meeting with Jane tomorrow," is all he says. He sounds numb, disbelieving. 

"I'll call her," Tim says. If anyone, Mikleo's editor will understand the reason for his absence. She has read all of his books so far. 

"I can't believe this is happening," Mikleo says. Then he walks off into the living room. He returns with a copy of one of his books that Tim left on the coffee table the other day. Tim accepts it when it is offered and stuffs it in with the messy clothing. 

"We were going to book the release venue," Mikleo says, as if in a haze. Tim shakes his head. 

"Nevermind any of that. I will sort things out. Mikleo, this is more important."

He guides Mikleo to the door, taking his suitcase with them and manhandling him to the rack of coats. He takes one of the more comfortable ones and sweeps it into Mikleo's arms. 

"For Hyland," he says. It is far colder than it is around here. 

Mikleo sweeps his jacket over the suitcase and turns around. Tim looks up. 

For the first time tonight, there is a clarity in those striking eyes, along with an unbearable sadness. He says, "What happens now?"

So much is in that question. More than Tim can bear. He refuses to think about it, and so he puts his hands gently on Mikleo's shoulders. 

"We will figure it out later," he says. "Right now, he needs you."

Mikleo's eyes are glassy as he nods. With no warning, he pulls Tim in for a kiss that warms him to his core. Then he is gone, and Tim feels as though he has left the warmth of a fire to walk through the cold. 

Mikleo turns and walks out, leaving the door open. Tim watches him run down to the driveway and get into his car. It starts with a rumble that seems to vibrate the night air and backs out to turn onto the road. Only once it is gone around the bend of a hill does Tim allow himself to close the door. 

He is alone, and the silence threatens to close in on him like a collapsing cave. Five seconds pass, then ten seconds. Slowly his fingers find the cold wood of the door. He touches it like a man lost, searching for an anchor. 

One hand joins the other, guiding him until he has his back to the cool surface. He sinks down until he hits the floor. The impact shakes something loose within him, and he bows his head. Slowly, gently, he begins to cry. 


End file.
